


Filling Time

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bite Kink, Biting, Coitus Interruptus, F/F, Fingering, Girls Kissing, Kissing, Love Bites, Making Out, Orgasm Delay, Roughness, Sam Dean and Castiel have the worst timing, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 05:16:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14561682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Reader is bored and asks Rowena to entertain her. Rowena is happy to oblige.





	Filling Time

To say that waiting for Sam, Dean, and Castiel to come to a decision was boring would be an understatement.

Rowena was seated at the table, books, candles, and various magical items scattered across it. You put your arms around her neck from behind and and leaned down, resting your chin on her shoulder. Your heart beat faster at the feeling of her skin on yours, warm and soft. She smelled of flowers, of nature wild and untamed, perfume and shampoo mixing into a delicious scent that conjured images of wilderness in your mind.

"I'm bored," you said. With team free will busy bromancing and the archangel sulking about his wounded pride in Dean's room, the library was awfully quiet.

"Really? I haven't noticed," Rowena teased, feigning nonchalance. You groaned like a petulant child, prompting a smile to break on her mouth. "What do you suppose I do about it?"

"Entertain me."

Your cheek brushed against hers, and you leaned into her, melting into her warmth. Fire rushed through your veins, blood evaporating in place of lava burning bright and hot, setting your insides alight. Rowena was magic, as if every bit of her was sewn into life by threads of exotic potions and spells. Your hand found her breast and gently squeezed it. She moaned, the same desire that had been building up inside of you dripping from the sound that broke free from the constraints of her throat.

Rowena was the most powerful witch in the world, yet the simple touch of your hand was enough to weaken her. Excitement filled you at the thought, in tune with the ever-rising heat washing over your body. You were the only one privileged to have such power over her.

And you relished in it.

"It's not fair to tease a girl like that," she said, her hand clasping over yours and pressing it closer against her breast.

"I never said I play fair."

You kissed her cheek, lips trailing lower, down to her neck. Rowena leaned her head over an inch, allowing you easier access. Despite her outward appearances, she was a sensitive creature. She needed to be handled with care, with utmost devotion. Previous bad experiences had left her guarded; she didn't allow many people to get this close. You were the only one she let near her neck, where she was most vulnerable, most tender. She trusted you with the most fragile part of herself.

You promised yourself never to do anything to lose that trust.

Your mouth roamed the delicate flesh, hungry, gluttonous, as if it had been months — instead of mere hours — since you'd last tasted her. You stopped just below her ear. You licked small circles, tongue massaging the spot you knew she was most sensitive, where she was yours. Rowena's breath hitched at the sensation, a small gasp leaving her mouth. Smirking, you pressed your lips to the to the delicate area. Her heart beat faster; you could feel it in your mouth, the artery throbbing to the pounding of her heart, sending vibrations through your greedy lips.

Your teeth captured the bit of skin, tongue teasingly slithering over it.

Then you bit down.

Rowena tried her hardest to quiet the moan that ripped from her throat. A satisfied smile spilled over your mouth. You relished in the sounds that she made, proud that it was you who elicited them, you who brought her to that edge of desperation and need. She was yours in every sense of the word. Your lover, your property, your toy to use however you saw fit. The mark on her neck — the beautiful, slowly blossoming bruise of purple standing out in the milkiness of her skin — proved it.

Suddenly, Rowena stood up, startling you, and her hand wrapped around your neck. She pushed you backwards, tiny fingers digging into your skin, nails grazing the surface, and shoved you against a bookshelf in the corner. The books on display shook at the impact, and for a moment you feared you'd find yourself buried underneath centuries-old hardcover encyclopedias. Much to your relief, the tomes stayed in place, undisturbed.

Rowena's eyes were searing into yours, hunger equal to yours blaring in them, burning straight to your very core. Heat settled in your stomach, sinking lower — dangerously lower. You weren't the only one with the power in this relationship. One intense look from her, and you were a puddle, a puppet completely dependant on her to pull its strings.

As much as you loved being in control, nothing could compare to Rowena taking matters into her own hands and making sure you knew your place.

"I'm not much of a fair player, either," she said, voice dark with lust. You shivered at the promise in her tone, desire coiling in your stomach, swirling like a tornado eating you up inside.

"Prove it," you challenged. You were playing with fire, and you couldn't wait to get burned.

Rowena released your neck, and you let out a small breath. Anticipation built up in your chest as she watched you, tensely, intently, like a cat observing its prey and getting ready to strike when it least expected it.

Her lips crashed into yours, tongue breaking in. You let it, let her take the lead, let her do with you as she pleased. Your cheeks flushed red, her natural warmth spilling into you. Her hands fiddled with your zipper, then, in a swift, practiced movement, pushed your pants down just enough to allow them access. One of her hands slithered into your panties. You flinched as her finger curled around your clit, teasing you, testing you.

Rowena's lips parted from yours and curled into a smirk. "Wet already, aren't you?" she teased. She felt you up and a satisfied smile broke on her mouth. "Goodness, you're soaking!" She fluttered her eyelashes, and for a moment she looked like an innocent schoolgirl rather than a wicked witch. "All this for me?"

"What can I say? I'm generous," you said in fake nonchalance.

"I'd rather say desperate," she said.

She had  _ no _ idea. "Really, Rowena? Insults?"

"Just stating the facts, dear."

"Or being mean on purpose."

She shrugged. "Guilty as charged."

You wanted to respond, but her mouth on yours silenced all the words you'd been meaning to say. As her lips devoured you, her fingers massaged your clit. You shivered at the sensation, arching your head back as moan after moan escaped your trembling lips.  _ More,  _ your mind screamed, the feverish echo pounding in your head. You needed her; needed her inside of you, needed her hands all over you to mark every single inch of your skin.

Rowena was everything you could wish for, and more. She was more than a woman, more than a witch, more than a lover. She was exquisite, a creature of raw beauty, every touch of hers a perfect high sending you to the very edge of delight. Her fingers curled and kneaded exactly the way you liked it, the way you craved it. You were like an addict, body twitching and shaking with desire for the high, and Rowena was your drug of choice. A drug you never wanted to quit.

Teeth sinking into your skin shook you from your thoughts. Stinging erupted in your neck. Your nerves were on fire, sweet, delicious pain mixing with pleasure washing over your body like a splash of scalding water. A droplet of blood trickled down your neck and soaked into your shirt. Rowena kissed the wound, the tenderness of her lips contrast to the roughness of the bite. Then she sucked at the throbbing skin, and it took all your self-control not to scream out loud.

Your hands tangled in her hair. Your grip was strong, as if you would lose your balance if you were to let go. You pressed her firmer against you, pressed her mouth against the mark she'd left on you, wordlessly demanding more. Rowena obliged without protest, kissing and sucking harder. Her fingers stroked your clit in faster intervals, touch growing rougher. Heat roiled between your legs, sinking lower to where her fingers were working their magic.

Your pulse raced, body stiffening in expectancy of release. Your fingers curled in Rowena's hair tighter as your breath hitched. You were close. So very close that you could almost feel your body convulsing with pleasure. Just a few more strokes, and you would come undone. Just a few more strokes and you would fall apart in Rowena's arms like you were nothing but a fragile human girl unable to take the torment instead of a powerful witch.

You were almost there. A touch or two more, and release would hit you like a sharp slap to the face.

_ Rowena! _ Your mind called out her name when your mouth couldn't.  _ Faster! _

And faster she went.

And harder.

Without a shred of mercy, reveling in your desperation.

Cruelly.

Mercilessly.

Wickedly.

And then…

"Guys!"

_ Shit! _

As if flipping an off switch, the heat died down. Your eyes widened, features twisting with shock. Rowena let out a loud, startled gasp. Stepping back, your hands falling limply from her hair, she looked you straight in the eyes, face bearing the equal expression of fear.

You had been caught.

And, as much as you were ashamed, a flash of anger coursed through you. Couldn't they have waited until  _ after  _ you'd come?

Rowena jumped out from behind the shelf, hair and clothes disheveled, messy. You did quick work on your pants, pulling up the zipper and straightening your shirt before following after her. Sam, Dean, and Castiel were looking at you, disbelief sprawled on their faces like a perfectly painted mask.

"Ah, we were just…" Rowena started, unsure what to say.

_ 'Trying to have sex in your library' _ wouldn't quite cover it.

Thinking fast, you spat out, "Making magic."

Dean's frown deepened. Sam's eyes widened even more. Castiel looked like he wanted to be everywhere but here.

Bad choice of words.

"Like, casting spells and such," you quickly added, trying to fix the damage. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat. "To pass the time. She was… showing me some new techniques. Of spell-casting. Which is what we were doing. Casting spells. Because we're witches and that's what we do."

No one was buying it.

Not even you.

Rowena interjected before you could dig yourself deeper — if it was possible to go deeper at this point. "Did you boys arrive at a…" She propped herself up on one heel, then quickly regained her composure. "Decision?"

Sam and Dean just stared. Castiel, on the other hand, lowered his head and closed his eyes, as if pretending he couldn't see anything would make the scene before him disappear.

If only it could.

After a moment of silence, Dean pointed to his brother and said, "Sam has a plan."

You sighed in relief, welcoming the change of subject. There were more important matters to discuss than your and Rowena's sex life.

As you listened to the plan, a leftover strand of anger lingered within you.

Would it have killed them to arrive ten minutes later?

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my lovely, beautiful editors OswinTheStrange and mrs_jughead_jones_iii.


End file.
